Quinny, Focus!
By Ofelia Gränd
Quincy Dean read the reply on his screen and chuckled. William—‘everyone calls me Will’—had sent him a sleepy sticker. Standing, he peeked through his window, across the U-shaped yard between their apartment buildings, and saw the lights go off, one after another, in Will’s apartment.
Will had moved in back in February. Quincy had put on a thick winter jacket and made himself a cup of coffee to have on his tiny balcony while he watched him carry stuff. He would’ve walked over there to offer a helping hand had it not been for him waiting for a call from his boss.
There had been no friends helping Will, most of the stuff he’d carried up the three flights of stairs himself, and he’d had a sofa and a bed delivered from IKEA. Quincy had watched that too.
IKEA
